The grimmy guardian
by Artistrazzy
Summary: Pitch is back stronger than ever. Will the guardians succeed defeating him, or do they have to convince a new guardian to help them? eventual Jack Frost XOC


Darkness always surrounding the mortals, often forgotten as well.

However the guardians will always be there to protect the hearts of the children. To protect the light within them.

Am I a guardian? Not even close.

Humans know me as the Grim Reaper, harvester of souls.

In the times that people feared the devil, and the afterlife I used to be seen, not anymore.

Not that it bothers me I prefer not to be seen, not being begged for mercy every day, I mean it seriously gave me a lot of overtime. Always listening to the mortals, telling me they have a family, it's not easy ignoring those puppy eyes, but I have to . For I am the grim reaper and my work is a huge responsibility.

How long has it been since I died and started my life as the new grim reaper?

About a thousand years, it used to be only me and Pitch. Those times were okay, we did what we did best, no one bothered us. No one fought us, death was just something that couldn't be avoided.

Now the humans keep on fighting against death with their new equipment and new ways of surviving.

My job isn't exactly appreciated, but ah well can't please everyone. At least there are a few people who appreciate it, mostly the people who work at funerals. Some even saw me at times, but then they dismissed me as an illusion.

I usually hang out there, it's pretty quiet and peaceful. Until the sobbing mobs come by.

I don't get it, life is so fleeting yet people are always surprised when a death occurs. By now they should know right?

Apparently not once again the sobbing mob keeps yelling it wasn't his time yet, in my book it is, and my book is law. It's not like I don't care about the people, I do.

Everyone that dies gets a place in my home, usually I take a flower from their grave, if I have time I make a drawing.

It's strange but it keeps me from breaking down.

Everything I touch dies, but the dead flowers never seem to disappear as long as people remember the dead. It's a comforting gesture to be honest. Pitch mocks me for it, for being sentimental about the lives I take .But I don't really care, I just hope that my family remembered me, like I remember everyone that died.

Sadly enough the way people associate death I am often placed in the same category with Pitch.

The evil side, he is my friend but sometimes his obsession with being seen is becoming a bit scary.

He often makes me worry, every night he disappears but he returns in the morning. Now he's already gone for a few days. He did that only once before, when he came back he was covered in bruises and cuts. And for some reason prints of horse hooves. I helped him get better but whoever was responsible made me kind of angry. Despite Pitch scaring me most of the time, without him here it gets lonely so when my friend gets hurt, it gets to me as well.

I decided to go for a walk.

I decided to go for a walk, it's winter so with dead trees all around people notice my work less. Which is okay, if you're not death itself it's hard to understand what we do. Like killing the sick trees to make room for small ones, the nutrients of the dead ones only help the smaller ones to grow even stronger than the ones before them.

I always go to the same spot, a little lake with still water that never seems to freeze. Animals often approach it to drink from it. I often see a doe, or a rabbit drink from it, at times I make a drawing. Drawing an animal is relaxing. I take of the cap of my black road and look towards the lake, a reflection of an unnatural pale girl with red eyes stares back at me.

Something was off today, a weird flying bird flew over my reflection. I turned around to see if there was perhaps a forest fire or a hunter that startled them, but I saw nothing, nothing but darkness and some vague shadows. Very vague I mean it's not possible that a kangaroo would be here. I went to take a closer look to the weird shape, only to hear the oddly flying bird again.

Suddenly it was dark, the only thing I could do was hear my own mind and very vaguely a voice. " Make sure she doesn't touch you, grimmy here isn't exactly harmless." Those words were the last thing I heard until the darkness consumed me.


End file.
